


danger will follow me everywhere i go

by ladyofdecember



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Commission fic, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 22:38:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofdecember/pseuds/ladyofdecember
Summary: Another day, another villain attack but this time Brock suddenly isn't so certain about his place in this world, especially when it comes to being one Rusty Venture's savior.





	danger will follow me everywhere i go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [danvssomethingorother](https://archiveofourown.org/users/danvssomethingorother/gifts).



> This was a commission piece I did! If you'd like to commission me for a fic let me know! Tumblr handle is also ladyofdecember! Or you can check out my ko-fi page - ladyofdecember. <3
> 
> ...
> 
> "Danger will follow me  
> Everywhere I go  
> Angels will call on me  
> And take me to my home  
> Well this tired mind just wants to be led home"  
> \--Everywhere I Go by Lissie

It was about half past eleven at night by the time Brock had managed to scramble and retrieve one Rusty Venture from the "clutches of evil". The superscientist had been kidnapped not by some legitimate threat but rather some newcomer to the game, some wannabe who had wanted to show-up Wide Whale. It was true, while Brock never really considered most enemies or villains they came up against a true threat. This guy... this guy was pathetic!

The aquatic "prince" as it were was not skilled at villainy nor was he particularly that venomous. He'd simply gotten lucky, being at the right place at the right time with the kidnapping of the most senior Venture. He'd benefited from Brock's absence and Rusty's semi-altered state. 

The bodyguard had been receiving text after text all night long from the man and the indication was clear; he had been hammered. The texts had been kind of all over the place, everything from comments about the movie he was watching to needy, semi-flirtatious ones. 

Brock sighed, carrying the man gently from his car all the way to Venture Tower. Punching in his personal security code, he got the front glass doors open enough to squeeze inside with the unconscious man still in his arms.

Rusty had been battered pretty badly to the outside observer though if you'd asked him or Rusty himself, they'd both mutter that they'd seen worse.

Heading past the vacant security desk, Brock was a little surprised to find no Hatred hanging around but not worried. He had insisted to the man lately that he take a break and not be so obsessive about protecting the family. After all, it was his job anyway. That fact had never changed.

As he got into the elevator with the man, Brock wondered for a moment if Hank would still be puttering around the living room all full of teenage angst, still heartbroken over his relationship with that girl. Still, it wouldn't be the first time he'd seen his father banged up. The kid was tough. He could handle it.

As the elevator chimed and the doors came whooshing open, Brock was greeted to a dark and empty corridor. The motion sensors kicked on as he gingerly stepped through the hall, lights flickering to life at their sudden appearance. 

Hank must have gone to bed, that or he was out trying to drown his sorrows by getting into some sort of trouble. The teen's idea of rebelling needed work though and Brock wasn't too worried. His latest attention grabbing scheme had been him stealing napkins from all the local coffee shops. You know, the ones that had the dispensers out in the open for everyone to take as they needed?

Brock laid the scientist down gently on their sofa and headed to the kitchen for a beer. He needed something to take his mind off of his creeping, worrying thoughts.

The man had been waiting there for him to come to his rescue and the only reason it had taken as long as it did was because he had been at the movies. 

The movies of all places! 

Brock hadn't even gone with Hank or anyone else, just alone all by himself, just because he'd wanted to. Because he was selfish.

Since moving to New York, the formerly bloodthirsty bodyguard had found himself softening a bit. He'd decided that maybe it was time to slow down a bit, to enjoy himself, maybe stop and smell the roses. After all, he'd had a long, hard life and it had always been about the mission. But being back with his family in this new place, Brock had begun to consider a life more... well, lived.

It had begun with innocent trips to the zoo on the weekend. Just short ones, Saturday mornings when he'd step out to grab he and the Doc some coffees. He'd do a stroll around the "African safari" corner and then exit through the bird sanctuary, all before 10am. 

It wasn't like it was a secret or anything but he suspected if anyone found out that there may be implications that he was “losing his edge”.

Dating Wariana had seemed like a good way to let his hair down too. Being so closely defined by his job, he'd never really allowed himself the chance to date or get into any sort of relationship, present company excluded as always. 

As short and possibly ill-conceived as their relationship had been, it had been nice to pretend to be kind of "normal" for a while.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, the man headed back to the living room and paused beside the couch. He stared down at the bald, unconscious man that lay upon it with worry creeping across his features.

This was his fault.

Brock sighed and settled in beside the man, gently lifting his head to lay it in his lap as there wasn't enough room for the two of them on the cream colored couch. He was too worried about him to just go in the other room plus, if he didn't wake up soon, he'd need to shake him awake to check for any sort of brain damage.

For now however, he'd let him sleep a bit.

…

After some endless channel surfing and not really finding anything really enjoyable to watch, Brock was beginning to feel his eyelids begin to droop. It was much later into the night now with the full moon outside hanging about halfway up the sky, shrouded by clouds but still glowing a bright yellow hue.

Brock watched as Rusty slept peacefully, his chest rising slowly up and down as his lids flickered every so slightly from whatever dream or nightmare he seemed to be suffering from.

The blonde man took a deep breath, in and out and slowly brought his hands up to his face to rub at his eyes tiredly. It had to be about 1am now and normally the man was a night owl but the day's events, hell the week's events had tired him out. He longed for rest, for his bed but he knew he had to stay and monitor the man's condition.

He seemed to be doing well, breathing normally, sleeping semi-peacefully and so he was no longer too concerned about his health.

Standing up, he decided to grab a glass of water from the fridge, if only to wake himself up a bit. He considered a coffee momentarily but decided against it at the last second.

Just as Brock had taken a few steps away towards the kitchen, he heard the unmistakable sounds of the doctor waking up. He turned back to look over at him curiously, pleased that Rusty was now trying to sit up a bit.

“Brock... ?” He mumbled tiredly, blinking in confusion at the blurriness surrounding him.

The blonde man jogged back over and retrieved the man's glasses from the coffee table, placing them back on his nose so he could see. “Sorry. Wanted ya to be comfortable.”

Rusty peered up at the bodyguard, feeling the random aches and pains from all over his body suddenly compounding all at once. He took a deep breath and winced, wondering momentarily if his ribs had been broken. After a few more deep breaths with his eyes squeezed tight, he reckoned it was just light bruising.

Coming all the way up to a sitting position on the couch, he rubbed at his eyes and the headache trying to form behind them. 

Brock was quick to step closer to him. “Just take it easy there, ya... ya need to rest, Doc.”

“I'm fine.” He said dismissively, waving the man off. He glanced up at him again and noticed a more severe expression taking hold of the man's face. Rusty smiled, touched by how concerned he was. “Thank you for coming to get me.” He said gently, watching as the man's expression suddenly turned darker. 

Brock hesitated between standing there and sitting down next to the man. The air surrounding them seemed electric, an awkwardness floating throughout. He glanced back uneasily at the kitchen, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “You uh... you want anything to eat? Drink?”

Rusty shrugged, then immediately winced at the twinge of pain coming from his right shoulder blade. “Uh... maybe some soup? I dunno. What have we got?”

“I'll get ya soup.” The man quickly headed towards the kitchen, leaving the superscientist alone to stare at the infomercial on the TV.

Reaching for the remote, he decided to try to find something to watch to take his mind off the pain.

…

Brock returned after a few minutes with a bowl of piping hot chicken noodle soup, some water and a handful of tylenol to which Rusty took gratefully, swallowing them down with a long drink.

Settling down on the couch next to the injured man, Brock kept sneaking small glances at him which were riddled with anxiety. It was a look Rusty hadn't seen on the man before, well, at least not very often.

“Brock... what's wrong?” He asked him, picking up the bowl of soup carefully, trying not to burn his hands on the sides.

“I just... I shoulda been there sooner.”

“What do you mean? It was fine. I was... fine.”

“You're not fine.” Brock said bitingly, grabbing the remote and turning up the volume on the big blockbuster action movie that was playing.

Rusty set down the soup and sighed, doing his best to turn and face the man who sat beside him. The strain on his lower back was painful but he managed. “Brock, thank you for saving me. Maybe I don't say it enough but... I do appreciate you.”

“You say it enough.” Brock muttered, eyes still glued to the screen, that is until Rusty reached out and grasped his arm gently.

Brock looked at him, looked at the way he was banged and bruised up and sighed. “I know you do. And I... I'm just sorry, okay?”

“There's nothing to be sorry for. This?” He gestured towards himself. “I've been in a lot worse shape than this!”

Nodding mutely, the bodyguard allowed himself to relax a bit, leaning back and placing a wary arm around the scientist's shoulders to bring him in closer. His eyes trained on the TV, he chose his next words carefully. “I love you, ya know.”

Rusty settled in beside him, breathing in the smell of his hair gel and closing his eyes. “I know. I love you too.” He mumbled sleepily over the sounds of the TV.

...

Stirring suddenly, the superscientist found himself awakening from his place on the living room couch. He had been slumped against Brock, the man's large, buff arm laid protectively around him. His sudden panic quickly subsided when he remembered where he was and he snuggled back against the man for a moment.

The brightness of the moon outside was streaming through the open blinds all around the living room. Rusty briefly thought about getting up to close them but didn't want to disturb the man next to him.

He glanced at the TV and then back to the bodyguard with a light smile on his face, feeling happy and light and so glad to be home safe under the protection of the man.

A few more moments ticked by of silence between them save for a few light snores coming from Brock. Gazing at him Rusty smiled then, happy that he seemed to mean so much to the man, he was willing to sleep on the couch with him. And more than that, he had saved him once again from the chaos that seemed to follow him and their family wherever they went.

There were a few truths to the world as far as Rusty was concerned. The sun would come up in the morning, the tides of the ocean would push and pull at their will. But most of all, one thing was certain to the man, there would be no Rusty without Brock. And he supposed, no Brock without Rusty.


End file.
